


Safekeeping

by souponthebrain



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Homelessness, Internal Conflict, Pining, Slow Burn, this is first person POV lol im sorry, this is my first time writing a straight fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/souponthebrain/pseuds/souponthebrain
Summary: safe·keep·ing/ˌsāfˈkēpiNG/nounPreservation in a safe place.Estelle's fucked up father left her on her own, George can't figure out why he feels the need to take care of her.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) & Original Character(s), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) & Original Female Character(s)





	1. Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time actually publishing something I've written so I hope you enjoy!

_ Estelle’s POV _

My hands are cold, nearly shaking as my breath forms clouds in front of me. I keep my eyes firmly shut hearing the sounds of footsteps on the pavement while people chatter around me without a second glance. It's not the first time I've gone unnoticed. You learn to get used to people treating you like trash when you sleep on park benches and spend your days begging on a street corner. It's not a life I would wish on my worst enemy and not one I would have chosen for myself. 

I reach my fingers out to feel for my backpack, hoping to find anything to eat. I couldn't remember the last time I had a full meal but anything to fill the void would do. The bitter cold of Washington made the hole in my stomach twice as wide, hoping for something to warm me up. I feel around my backpack secretly hoping to find some loose change that I knew wasn't going to be there. How much does a coffee go for nowadays? 

In the midst of my search a voice startles me out of my thoughts. “Hey, are you hungry? They got my order wrong at the restaurant over there and I got an extra meal.” Squinting against the gray sky to make out some facial features, I see a pair of warm brown eyes.

“Are you sure? I would really appreciate that.” I manage to respond.

“Not a problem! If you want you can come sit with me? Get out of the cold for a bit.” 

It wasn't everyday I got an invitation to sit with someone in a restaurant. In fact it had never happened before. I felt cautious, but seeing as a restaurant is pretty public what's the harm? He didn't look like a murderer or a kidnapper. At least I hope. Actually, now that my eyes have adjusted and I can see him more clearly he was pretty cute. His dark brown hair swooped over his forehead and his smile felt more genuine than any other I’ve seen before. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he almost looked... nervous?

“That would be really nice, let me grab my stuff.” I shove my blanket in my backpack before swiftly standing up and slinging the strap over my shoulder. Now that I’m standing I notice he isn't as tall as I anticipated, which sets my nerves at ease. Overall he did seem like a nice guy. Even if he wasn't I had mace in the front pocket of my backpack, so I’d like to see him try me. 

I let him lead me to a restaurant across the street and hold the door open for me. As soon as I walk in, the warmth envelops me. He leads me to a booth near the front windows and plops on the bench. Seeing the food on the table I nearly start drooling. Two whole pizzas with melty cheese, and steam wafting off the top. I slide in the booth and without another word he starts  digging in. I look at the pizza in front of me: bell peppers, pepperoni, onion, mushrooms, sausage- the works. My mouth is watering but I pause before grabbing a slice. 

“Are you sure? Don’t you have anyone who would want this?” I’m not sure why I feel guilty, other people have given me food before but for some reason I almost don’t want to take this. 

“I do but they’re making me mad right now so I don’t want them to have any.” He chuckles, clearly amused with himself. 

“If you're sure,” I hesitate again. He nods at me, mouth full. 

My teeth sink into the slice and I’m in heaven. I couldn't remember the last time I had a real slice of pizza, with a crunchy crust and fresh toppings. My eyelids flutter closed as I savor the flavor and go in for a second bite. When I opened them again he was staring straight at me. I quickly finish chewing and swallow my bite.

“I don’t think I caught your name? My name is Estelle, or you can call me Stella if you want.” 

“I’m George. It’s nice to meet you Estelle.” The corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile and I can't help but grin back. I haven't felt this safe and warm since my family was whole. Now my mom is dead and I’m not even sure where my dad is. 

We chat for a while over pizza and I end up oversharing a bit about my life. I’m not usually so open with people. I wasn't sure what it was about George that made it feel so easy to talk to him. For all I know he could still be trying to murder me.

I learned that George is studying abroad in America with a few of his friends from England. He’s been studying programming in college and seems to really like it. My mind began to wander as he told me about his life in England and some of his college stories. I was suddenly brought out of my thoughts when a waitress came over to the table and asked if we needed anything else. George glances at his phone and asks for the check. I began to panic as I rummaged through my bag. 

“I have some cash in my wallet, let me help pay. I really appreciate the meal.” I sputter out while desperately searching for my wallet. 

“Please, I asked you to come eat with me. I wouldn't have been able to finish it anyway.” He chuckles seeing my cheeks turn a rosy shade. 

The waitress makes her way back to the table with a box for the leftover food and George passes her some cash. “Keep the change.” He says, coolly. 

Once the leftovers are boxed up and safely tucked in my backpack he stands up. “Estelle… Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

I cringe inwardly. I’ve been asked this before. It's one thing to accept help in the form of food or spare change but having somewhere to stay is something else entirely. I wouldn't call myself stubborn per se but hard-headed is a pretty good descriptor. Once you let people help you they tend to see you as a hurt animal that needs rehabilitation. They begin to expect you to rely on them and then their feelings get hurt because you aren't living up to the expectations they set for you. The whole thing leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I think carefully about my response. 

“I have a friend's house I can stay at, I’m all good!” Classic reassurance, he has no reason not to believe me. Yet when I meet his eyes he looks hesitant to leave. Before I can think too much I grab my backpack and stand up.

“Thank you again, I really do appreciate it!” I make sure my tone is light and cheery as I turn towards the door.

“Estelle,” I glance over my shoulder and see him hunched over the table scribbling away on a napkin. “If you need anything, please call me okay? I know I’m some random guy you just met but I’d like to be friends.” He grins handing me the napkin with a phone number scrawled in blue ink.

“Okay George. I will.” I fold the napkin carefully and shove it in my back pocket. I know I won’t use it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter turned out way shorter than I expected lol, but I do have a few more to post today. Feel free to comment, give criticism, ideas, suggestions or just say hi :) Idk if anyone will read this but lmk if you do!


	2. Worry

_ George’s POV _

_ “Sure that's nice, but a little random don’t you think?” _ Clay sounds distracted on the other end.

“I dunno. She was there and I wasn't going to eat all of that food. She looked cold and I didnt want to just give her the pizza, what if she thought it was drugged?” Maybe calling him was a bad idea.

_ “I’m sure she would’ve been grateful either way. I know I would've loved some pizza.” _ I could hear him grinning on the other end but part of me was still mad at him from before.

“You could have gotten pizza if you and Nick weren’t being so annoying earlier. That's the whole reason I went on a walk in the first place, or did you forget?” 

_ “How could I forget widdle Georgie babyraging over getting 4th place in Mario Kart.” _

“I didn't babyrage.” I grumble in response. It was just like Clay and Nick to constantly take the piss out of me. They were my best friends but sometimes they pushed the joke too far. 

After losing to them for the 5th time that day I had enough of their teasing and decided to go on a walk. I may have been a little harsh while leaving but they deserved it. It wasn't like I actually cried. I made my way over to my favorite pizza place, which I never would have discovered if it weren't for our friend Wilbur having been fired from there a few weeks earlier. When they brought out my pizza and it was covered in all the things I don't like I really did consider just bringing it back to the flat. I spotted her through the window, she had her eyes closed, sitting against the wall and she almost looked asleep. I watched as she covered her stomach with her arm and I decided I would give her this pizza. I flagged the waitress who apologized way too many times for getting the order wrong and told her I would be right back and just to leave the pizza on the table. I was glad I had made my decision when I stepped outside from the warm restaurant. I didn't realize how cold it actually was.

“Are you almost back? I think I’m going to bed soon.” Clay’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts. 

“Yeah, I’m cutting through the park so I should be back in about 10 minutes.” I glance around making sure I know where I’m going when I spot a familiar face sitting on the swing set. “I’ll see you when I get back, okay?” 

“Sure.” 

Confusion and then understanding washes over me. She said she had a friend's house to go to. She lied. Why would she lie? I begin to walk over to her when my pace slows. I am just some guy. I don't know her and she doesn't know me. Why do I feel the need to help her so much? She probably lied because I looked like some creepy stalker. 

Spinning on my heel I quickly make my way through the park and back to the flat. I am so stupid how could I not think of that? I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts I don't even realize I’ve made it back to the building. As I wait for the elevator I pull out my phone and send a text to Wilbur. Wilbur was generally good at being likeable and we had become closer since we were both transfers from England.

_ Gogy: How do I become friends with someone without them thinking I’m a creepy stalker? _

I get a response almost immediately.

_ Wilby: That depends. Are you being a creepy stalker? _

Some help he is. 

Finally making it back to the flat I fall back on the sofa and cover my eyes in frustration. From the corner of the room I hear a soft meow and the padding of tiny feet across the hardwood floor. I peek out from behind my hands and see Patches strolling her way over to me. Patches  was Clay’s cat, but my emotional support animal. She swiftly jumped on the sofa and made herself comfortable pressed against my side. 

“Hey.” I look up from my spot on the sofa to see Clay standing in the kitchen. I hadn't event noticed him. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah, I think I am. Although I can’t stop thinking about that girl I met.” I sigh and cover my eyes again. What was wrong with me? I’ll probably never see her again, I shouldn’t worry about it.

“Widdle Gogy has a cwush?” He sniggers while shoving a spoonful of Lucky Charms in his mouth. 

That made me pause. I don't think I did, I just met her and I barely know anything about her. I don’t particularly believe in love at first sight and even if I did, I think I would know right? I sigh again, rubbing the spot behind Patches ears she loves. 

Suddenly little drops bounce off the windows. Glancing over at the rain collecting on the window I stare out at the city. I hope she has somewhere to sleep. At the very least somewhere warm. 

“Dude, George? Can you hear me?” I whip my head around to face Clay. “You’re really in your head tonight. You should try to sleep.” I hum in response and heave myself off the sofa to go for a shower. 

I leave my shoes and jacket in my room, grab some sweatpants and a fresh tee shirt and make my way to the bathroom. My hands felt numb as I turned the knob as hot as it could go and strip my clothes off. I step into the steam and cringe as the hot water slowly turns my skin red and loosens the knots from my shoulders and back. I don’t stay in very long. The more time I spend in the shower the more time I spend thinking about things that make me anxious. 

Quickly spreading soap over my body and rinsing off I shut off the shower after about 5 minutes. I step out, towel off, and throw on the clothes I bought in the bathroom. As I open the door to the bathroom and the trapped heat escapes, I shiver and wrap my arms around my torso.

My bedroom was a welcome escape after the strange day I had but once my head hit the pillow I couldn't sleep. My mind kept replaying the interactions I had all day. Getting overly upset about losing a few rounds of Mario Kart, storming off, inviting a random stranger to eat with me, feeling a strange attraction to said stranger. It all felt… strange. I toss and turn for about 30 minutes before getting up and walking to my computer. If I can't sleep I may as well try to get some work done.

I boot up my PC and check my email before moving to my coding program to finish an assignment for class. The teacher had assigned us a project to program something the class could all use. Instead of doing something academic like study applications or flash cards I decided to code a chess game. It would be fun anyway, plus the class could play it together.

The only issue was my procrastination. Every time I sat down to start working my mind drifted and I decided I needed to do 10 other things instead. My fingers hovered over the keys in front of me and I leaned my head back against my chair. Looks like I wasn't going to do it tonight either. 

I close out of the application and stare at my desktop wallpaper not really thinking anything. It was quite a nice picture of a forest. In the distance of the photo two deer had their necks craned down as if eating the grass or whatever was on the forest floor. I push back from my desk and flop down in my bed again. This was a daily occurrence. I couldn't shake the fog that constantly wrapped my brain. It was like everything was muted: sights, sounds, smells, emotions. I let my emptiness lull me to sleep, before 9:00 pm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love depressed George.


	3. Gazebo

_ Estelle’s POV _

Why did I feel so guilty? I literally have no idea who he was, it's not my fault he looked nice. I don't owe him anything, he said he wanted to give me the food. Besides, I'll never see him again. I let my feet drag on the ground to stop the motion of the swing I was on. I heave out a sigh before standing up and heading to the gazebo in the heart of the park.

For the past week I’ve slept on the bench in the gazebo. It was sheltered from the rain and slightly shrouded by trees. The park was big enough to be a bit more private but not so private that I was afraid of getting my stuff stolen or being viciously murdered. 

When my mom died it was a while before my dad was able to put himself back together. When I had turned 18 I had gotten a job at the bakery across the street from our apartment to help with the bills. That was the same time my dad discovered online gambeling. He would ask me for money to pay bills and then bet it all online. Or buy booze, whichever was cheaper at the time. I honestly had no idea until our landlord came knocking on our door with an eviction notice. I had never been angrier in my life. We screamed at each other for hours until finally I stormed out. I stayed the night at my friend's house that night and went to work straight from her house the next morning. When I finally went home that night almost everything was gone in the apartment. Not even a fucking note left behind. I tried calling him over and over and never got a response. I have no idea where he is to this day.

I stuff my backpack behind my head and wrap my blanket around my torso. I begin thinking about the things I have to do tomorrow. I have work in the morning, and then I need to stop by the laundromat, and hopefully get a shower at the gas station across town where the truckers stop. Staring at the sky I start to hear drops landing softly on the trees above me. I was lucky to have the gazebo. I was lucky to have my mom when I did. So much for luck. 

I let my eyes flutter shut and rest on the bench for a while listening to the soft sound of the rain. I’m almost lulled to sleep when I hear the sound of scuffling feet on the path about 20 feet from the gazebo. I keep my eyes shut but my body tenses, listening closer to the approaching footsteps. They stop short of entering the space and are still for so long that I start to think I may have imagined it. I was too afraid to open my eyes or lift my head. I hadn't had anyone come here this whole week, so why now? 

Suddenly I hear the sound of a glass bottle making contact with the ground and rolling away. More scuffling. I open my eyes and crane my neck to find the source of the noise. From the corner of the gazebo I see a man in a business suit with his phone out. I almost think he doesn't notice me as he's staring straight at the screen, but then he directs the phone towards me and the flash goes off as he takes a picture of me. My stomach immediately twists in knots. What the fuck. I reach in the front pocket of my backpack for my pepper spray, my hands fumbling from shaking so much. 

“Hey sweetheart, did you finally wake up?” The man sneers toward me. His voice made my blood run cold. “Why are you sleeping out here all on your own?”

I glance his way giving him a death stare. I’m still fumbling around trying to find the canister without taking my eyes off of him. Shit. Fuck. This is really bad. 

“Aw come on honey, don’t be like that. You can come back to my house. I have a nice fluffy bed we can share.” He chuckles as if what he said was funny. 

“Stay the  _ fuck  _ away from me.” I manage to spit out in a menacing voice. 

“Who’s going to make me?” He takes a step closer to emphasize his point. Finally I’m able to feel the can of pepper spray and I grab at it as fast as I can. The canister slips out of my fingers and clatters to the ground rolling away pathetically before I can even process what happened.  _ FUCK. _ He barks out a laugh, bending down to pick up the can. 

“Really now, is all of this necessary? We could have a really nice time, just the two of us.” He holds the can in front of his face before slipping it into his inner coat pocket. All hope drains from my body and I’m frozen in place like a deer in the headlights. This cannot happen to me. He takes another step closer and reaches his hand out to cup my chin.

My brain goes into autopilot and I begin to run, grabbing my bag behind me. He was close behind, not letting me get far enough away to stop or try to hide. I run out of the park altogether and sprint into the street. Since when has this part of town been so quiet? I glance around trying to find somewhere to hide, swiping the rain out of my eyes. He shouts out not far behind, his nostrils flaring angrily. I lock eyes on a lit corner store and my feet start moving before my mind. 

I quickly make my way into the store, speed walking towards the back. I hear the jingle of the door open again. He wouldn't try anything in front for the store clerk would he? I float around the  isles hoping to avoid him. Maybe if he doesn't see me he’ll think I left already. My heart is pounding in my chest so loud I almost miss the jingle of the door once more. I breathe out a sigh of relief. He must have given up. I begin to make my way slowly to the front of the store when I catch a glimpse of his shoes and then his head in front of the store. He’s waiting for me outside. Again I go to the back of the isles. My breathing is ragged, and I can’t think straight. I sink to the floor, in the middle of the store. What the fuck am I going to do? 

The store clerk looks up from behind the counter. He’s a middle aged man who looks like he wants nothing more than to have me out of the store. 

“Hey. If you aren't going to buy anything you need to get out.” He croaks out. 

I look up at him from my spot on the floor. “Please can I stay here for another minute? I’m meeting someone and I don’t want to wait out front.” 

The clerk rolls his eyes. “Fine, another minute. But you have to buy something.” 

I heave myself off the dirty ground and attempt to control my breathing. I pace the isles and finally settle on buying a water. Setting the bottle on the counter I fish around my backpack for my wallet. Not feeling it, I take the bag off completely and set it on the ground in front of me. I left the front pocket of my backpack open trying to run away from the creep.  _ Shit, shit, shit, shit.  _

“I lost my wallet.” I choke out, on the verge of tears. This night couldn't get any worse. 

The clerk shakes his head. “Sorry kid, you don’t have to go home but you can't stay here.”

I glance out the window and see the creep still outside. “Please, you don't understand. That guy is outside waiting for me. He wants to hurt me.” At this point my voice is wobbling and the tears are threatening to spill over. 

“Didn't you say you were waiting for someone? Are they still coming?” The clerk softens his voice. “Can’t you call them?” 

“I don't have…”  _ anyone.  _ I pause before the thought leaves my lips. My eyes go wide. I can't believe I’m doing this. I stand still for a moment debating my options. I didn't have anyone  _ else.  _ I only had one person's phone number. I slide my hand in my back pocket feeling for the folded napkin I knew I would find. “...a phone. Could I borrow yours?” 

He heaves a sigh before sliding a cell phone across the counter. “Make it quick, please.”

I grab the napkin and dial the number, my hands shaking. It rings once… twice… three times.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end sounds distorted and groggy. 

“... George?”


	4. Prince Charming

_ George’s POV _

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” I’m already shoving my feet into my shoes. “Don’t go anywhere.”

_ “I won’t.”  _ The girl on the other end sniffs, and hiccups.  _ “Please hurry.” _

“I’m on my way now. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

She pauses.  _ “That's okay. I have to give this guy his phone back.”  _

“Okay. I’m leaving now. It's not too far from my flat. Should be 5 minutes.” I slide the phone into the crook of my shoulder while I throw on my jacket and stuff my keys in the pocket. 

_ “Okay… Thank you George.”  _ She hiccups again. 

“No problem.” The line goes dead before I can say anything else.

I slam the door behind me as I jog down the stairs and out the front of the building. My head whips around as I speed walk, looking for the streets she had told me. I wanted to make sure I looked natural as she had said he was still standing out front.

After a couple minutes I finally found the intersection and the corner store she told me about. I had to blink the rain out of my eyes but sure enough there was a man out front on the phone. I hesitate before crossing the street, building up my courage in case he stops me. 

I brush past the man without a second glance, walk into the store and breathe out a sigh. There she was, hair dripping wet, sipping from a water bottle. She looked shaken and scared but otherwise fine. 

She gets up from her seat on the floor. “Thank you for the phone. And the water.” She smiles at the clerk who gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder. She flinches.

“You're welcome, kid. Stay safe.” He responds gruffly. 

She gives me a sheepish smile as she makes her way over to me. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I smile as I respond. “Are you okay?” 

“I am now. I’m sorry.” She stares at the water bottle in her hands.

“We should get out of here. He’s still outside. We’ll go back to my flat and then you can decide what you want to do from there. Does that sound okay?” I glance behind me to see the fucking creep  _ still  _ outside. 

“Okay.” She grips the water bottle tighter in her hands, and moves toward the door. 

I make sure to follow her closely as we walk out of the shop. She hesitates before opening the door. I reach my arm out beside her and push the door, partly blocking her side from the man. He quickly whips his head around catching sight of her. Before I can think about it too hard, I slide my arm around her shoulders, over her backpack, and guide her across the street. I feel her tense but she doesn't say anything. Once we make it around the corner and out of sight I turn around and slow my pace making sure he isn't following behind. I walk a couple paces and then drop my arm from around her shoulders. She turns around and glaces around as well making sure we aren't being followed. 

“George?” Her voice comes out small. 

“I think we're okay now. I’m sorry.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and continue walking. 

She laughs a little. “Why are you sorry?” 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by putting my arm around you.”

She hums in response, and we continue in silence.

My mind reels with questions and I end up chewing on my lip until it bleeds in an effort to keep my mouth shut. I notice every few feet Estelle whips her head around to make sure that man isn't still behind us. I wanted to ask how she ended up in that situation, why she chose to call me, how she was feeling. Except that I didn't want to come off as pushy. What if she gets scared and lies to protect herself again? 

We make it back to my building after what feels like an excruciatingly long walk. I’m not even sure what to say. I hope she wants to stay at least for a little while, hopefully that would put my mind at ease. 

I push open the front door and exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding. At least it seemed Clay had gone to bed already. 

“You can leave your bag over there.” I point to a chair by the front door. “If you’d like, you can take a shower? I’ll put your clothes in the dryer for you.” 

“That would be so nice. I really appreciate it.” She sends me a soft smile looking around nervously.

“I have a roommate, Clay, but he’s already gone to bed so you don’t have to worry about being quiet or anything.” She nods following me as I lead her to my bedroom where I grab her a sweatshirt and some clean boxer shorts. Hopefully these would do. The boxers would fit her like shorts anyway. I take out a clean towel from the cabinet in the bathroom and show her how to turn on the shower before turning to head back to my room. 

“Thank you George. Really, I mean it.” She clutches the clothes in her arms, looking down at the floor. 

“Don’t worry about it, Estelle,” I smile at her. “I’ll be here.”

She nods before shutting and locking the door behind her.

What was I going to tell Clay?


	5. Sleepover

_ Estelle’s POV _

I let the hot water fall over my head, blurring my vision, and dripping down my face. The water is as hot as it can go, leaving red splotches on my back and shoulders, yet I’m still shaking. Leaning forward I place my hands on the porcelain tiles in front of me and breathe out slowly. What the fuck happened? I’ve had creepy men follow me or catcall me before, I live in a big city. This was nothing like that. He was going to hurt me. I shudder, trying not to picture everything that could have happened. 

I had been in the shower for so long the water eventually started to run cold. Turning the knob to shut off the almost frigid water and stepping out I clutch the towel tight around myself. I peer at my hazy reflection in the mirror, diffused by the condensation. I think about wiping off the mirror so I can get a better look at myself but decide against it. My arms and legs had turned a rosy shade from the heat of the water and my fingers had pruned. I slowly went through the motions of drying my body and hair, and then slipped into the clothes George had given me.

His sweatshirt was a couple sizes too big and draped my frame. His boxers fit me surprisingly well and I couldn't help but smile at the comfort his clothes gave me. They smelled like fresh laundry and slightly like his cologne. I run my fingers through my hair attempting to smooth the tangles and gather up my wet clothes before taking a deep breath. 

Walking out of the bathroom I almost trip over a small brown and grey cat. She looks a little disturbed to see me. I bend down, holding my hand out for her to sniff. 

“Hi there, what's your name?” I reach up to scratch between her ears and she headbutts into my hand.

“She seems to like you,” I hear a warm voice come from down the hall. “Her name is Patches.” 

I jump up, blushing furiously. “You must be Clay? George had said he had a roommate. I’m sorry if I woke you up. I’m Estelle, or Stella whichever you prefer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Stella. I think George is still in his room.” He smiles before disappearing back into his bedroom, Patches trailing after him. 

Softly knocking on the door I hear a faint “Come in!”. George rises from his chair smiling at me as I walk into his dimly lit room. He has a nice room for a guy in college. A desk against the back wall, a queen bed pressed into the left corner, two bookshelves line the right wall, full of books, trinkets, and pictures. He had a few lamps and candles scattered around the room providing a nice ambiance.

“I can take your wet clothes. We have a washer and dryer over by the kitchen.” He smiles again, his eyes crinkling. His smile sets my nerves at ease, it's so warm and inviting. I nod and pass them over to him. “Make yourself comfortable. If you’re okay with staying the night you can have my bed.” 

I open my mouth to protest, but he silences me with a chuckle, walking out of the room before I can get a word out. I take a seat on the edge of his bed and pick at a loose thread on his comforter. I wait a few moments before realizing just how tired I am. It was probably better I spend the night anyway, I can get up early for work and hopefully leave before George wakes up. I don't want to cause any more trouble for him than I already have. 

Soon enough the exhaustion of the day takes over and I crawl under the covers on George’s bed. I try to stay up until George gets back to his room but the rain slowly pattering on the window and the warmth of the room lulls me to sleep. I can't be sure but I think I hear George quietly enter his room, and mumble something before exiting again, shutting the door behind himself. 

~~~

Fuzzy morning light streams through the windows, waking me up slowly. I turn to my side and stretch out before realizing exactly where I am.  _ Fuck, I stayed the night at George’s apartment. _ I quickly get out of Georges bed making sure to fold the comforter up and make the bed look nice. I glance in the mirror and smooth out my hair before tiptoeing through the hallway into the living room to retrieve my backpack. 

George is sleeping on the couch, his face turned away from me. I listen closely, hearing his soft snoring before continuing on to grab my bag, which now has my set of clothes folded on top. I make my way back towards his bathroom, changing into my black turtleneck, and dark jeans. I quickly twist my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck, letting the shorter hair fall out and frame  my face. Before leaving the bathroom I tug on my coat and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I take one more glance at myself and open the bathroom door preparing to tiptoe out again. I’m met again by Patches outside the door. I look at her for a moment and she gives a soft mew rubbing her head against my shins. 

“Bye Patches, it was nice meeting you.” I whisper as I rub her head. 

I make my way through the living room as quietly as I can, and reach the front door before I start to feel a bit guilty. I was really going to leave without saying goodbye? I sigh before going over towards the kitchen. I’ll leave a note, that should be fine. I look around for a few moments opening and closing drawers as quietly as possible looking for some paper and a pen. I found a pen easily enough in a junk drawer but paper was a bit more of a challenge. I rifle through the junk drawer again before deciding to just write on a paper towel. I tear off a section and scribble for a moment trying to get the ink to flow. The letter wasn't too hard to write.

**_Thank you for coming to rescue me. You’re a true prince charming. Surprisingly I didn't feel any peas under the mattress :)_ **

**_Had to go to work and didn’t want to wake you up. If you need me for anything you can call the bakery._ **

**_XXX-XXX-XXXX_ **

**_Thanks again, George._ **

**_-Estelle_ **

I left the paper towel with the pen on the kitchen counter and made my way out of the apartment again. This time I didn’t hesitate as I unlocked the front door and slipped out. 


End file.
